


Recommended for Use

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Series: FenHawke Writing Challenge [14]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Domesticity, Dominant sneaky sly devious Fenris is ONE OF MY FAVS, Hand Jobs, Love Bites, M/M, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8475910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: If his wake-up call is Fenris's mouth kissing a line up the inside of his thigh every morning, Hawke definitely would not complain.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Saw a prompt on Tumblr that was like, THIGH HICKEYS and I was like, YES. So... ta-da /jazz hands
> 
> I do not own _Dragon Age II_. Thanks for reading! :D

Hawke was only half awake, a small yawn tugging at his lips. The mouth against the inside of his bare thighs was doing a sufficient job at drawing him back to consciousness, though. "Fenris," he greeted tiredly, voice still thick with sleep.

The lips paused against the inside of his knee. "Good morning, Hawke." Fenris's voice was deep. Not necessarily with sleep. The low pitch of his voice sent a lazy arousal rolling into Hawke's stomach, as if the lips moving up his thigh did not.

"Um, yeah, I think it's looking like it." Hawke laughed, and Fenris hummed, a vibration against sensitive skin. "What are you doing down there?"

"That should be evident." The kissing resumed.

_Evident_ , Hawke thought. All he could focus on was the fact that he'd woken up with Fenris nearly between his legs, and his mouth was all too close to his cock for comfort. "Don't know," he mused, aiming for absent-minded. He wasn't sure if it hit the mark. "You could be looking for freckles."

"You have no freckles, Hawke." Fenris's voice was patient.

"Maybe you're... initiating a new way to get me to wake up?"

"Partially true." His lips were crawling ever further upwards.

Hawke squirmed slightly, letting his legs fall further apart. "I got it. You're checking on those bruises on my legs from that fight with the bandits the other day."

The memory effectively seemed to derail the elf. His lips paused again, and then Fenris sat up straight. The look he gave Hawke was one of disdain. "They were not bandits. They were simply drunken men, until you decided to pick a fight with them."

Hawke huffed, pressing his head back into the pillow. "They insulted you. What did you want me to do?"

"Ignore them, as I did."

Hawke rolled his eyes. "I love you, Fenris, I'm gonna stand up for you."

"You do not need to protect my virtue."

Hawke wanted to groan. He held back the argument for the sake of pushing his hips up slightly instead. "Speaking of virtue..."

Fenris heaved a sigh, thin hands curling around Hawke's kneecaps. "You are making it impossible to forget your virtue. Interested as it is in the proceedings."

Now Hawke blew out a breath that would have been laughter if it wasn't suffocated by the way Fenris was looking at him. "'s your fault."

"Yes..." His fingers squeezed at Hawke's knees, and then he sank down to nuzzle against a thigh again. "I'm not going to suck you, Hawke."

Strike him down as vaguely disappointed. The resumed kissing was not a bad alternate, though. "What are you planning, then? Getting me hot and bothered then walking away?"

Hawke felt Fenris laugh more than actually heard him. "Perhaps," he said, and started to suck on the inside of Hawke's thigh.

Hawke sucked in another breath, hanging onto it. He counted to five, tried to focus on the darkness swirling behind now-closed eyelids, and breathed out through his nose slowly. The only thing he could focus on was Fenris's lips on his thigh, and how he'd just played devious on getting him hard and aching and then walking away.

Being teased may not be his favourite thing (teasing someone _else_ , that was a different matter), but if Fenris was initiating, he could put him in a dress, tie him up, and leave him in the middle of the foyer if only for the glance he'd just gotten a moment ago.

"You just want to leave more bruises," he complained lightly, and without heart. These kind of bruises were better. These kind of bruises were the best.

"Perhaps," Fenris said again, and bit down on his skin.

Hawke jerked and gasped, and laughed breathlessly as he shifted. "You're going to get kicked if you keep that up."

"I will take my chances."

Another softer, slower drag of teeth over skin, and Hawke was nearly overwhelmed with the urge to take his own cock in hand if Fenris was going to pay it no attention. He would. He might. He definitely could. "You-"

Whatever he had been planning to call him died right on his tongue when Fenris reached up and took him in hand, all seemingly without turning his attention away from the blossoming bruises on his thighs.

" _Maker's_ bre- _Fen_ ris, you-"

"I thought you liked surprises, Hawke." A swipe of tongue against his thigh, as the hand wrapped around his cock tightened and stroked, a thumb passing over the head. Hawke tried to laugh, and speak, and groan, all at the same time; it came out a garbled wheeze of unintelligible drivel, and he thrust his hips into the ring of Fenris's fingers. "Well?" Fenris continued, and now Hawke nodded, if a bit frantically.

"Love your... surprises. Of course," he bit out, half asleep fingers twisting into the sheets. They slipped off the silk, and he tried to clutch on tighter. "You know I do."

Another carefully calculated stroke, and then- "Good." The hand around his cock vanished, and the press of Fenris's lips was gone from his thighs, and the mattress moved as Fenris plopped back down in his designated spot and situated the pillow beneath his head.

Hawke was still breathing hard, and working up to a glare, annoyed and playful in turns. He turned his head to look at the elf now laying next to him, looking for all the world as if he hadn't been jerking Hawke or sucking his thighs. "What are you _doing_?" Hawke complained, but there was a smile pulling at Fenris's lips, and so there was at Hawke's, too.

"Sleeping, Hawke." He raised his eyebrows. "One does that, in bed."

He was going to kill him. _Maker_ , he loved him so much. Hawke couldn't stop the brief laugh that tumbled from his lips, and then pushed himself up and over Fenris's thighs to straddle them. "I can think of other things one can do in bed. Especially after one awakens the beast," he added, bracing his hands on either of his shoulders.

"Oh?" That distinctly sly look would one day kill him, Hawke believed. Fenris looped his arms around Hawke's neck and laced his fingers into his hair. "Have I awoken the beast? I hadn't noticed."

Hawke grinned and leaned in to kiss him.

Good morning, Hawke, indeed.

 


End file.
